


Eat You Up

by moodycactus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Stiles, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post Season 2, Slow Build, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Violence, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodycactus/pseuds/moodycactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is on a mission, Operation Save Scott. He does not need a Derek-sized speed bump blocking his path. There's clashes with outsiders, awkward moments and an embarrassed Sheriff. Stiles wants to be like Batman (I'm intending to write a follow-on from S2, aiming to be a slow burn piece with a side of action & erotic moments.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is following on directly from S2 and diverts from there. This is intended for those 18 and above, there will be eventual m/m steamy moments. Jeff Davis & Co own the characters and stories from Teen Wolf. This fic is my way of coping with the long hiatus between seasons. Enjoy!

"You're late. Wait -Why do you smell of mountain ash?" Derek asked, all tight, dark clothes and stubble. He was just there, leaning against his car and somehow out of place.

"I ah -Just something I was working on back at home. I thought I washed it off," Stiles replied, glancing around, looking at the ground, the broken down Hale House, anything to avoid eye contact.

_A half truth is not a lie right? Can he smell that too? Quick, diffuse, distract. Red herring! Herringbone is a fabric pattern, the largest human bone is a femur. Derek looks like he would have a large b-_

"What's the computer problem? I didn't even know you owned one. Do you have like an oversized keyboard for your meaty hands? Error, error! Alpha SMASH!" Stiles said, making Hulk-like gestures. "Oh. Riiight. Not funny, Stiles." Stiles let his hands fall to his sides.

Derek glared, then exhaled heavily. "My laptop is broken. Can you fix it?" he said, pulling a battered laptop out of a black bag and putting it on the hood of his car.

"You called me out here on a sunny Saturday, just to fix your crappy laptop? What is this? A porn emergency?"

Derek narrowed his hazel-green eyes at Stiles. "Judging by the stench in your room, I've come to the porn expert. Fix it!"

"Okay, okay. Sheesh! No need to pry into my alone time. Give a guy a break! Let's see what you've got here," Stiles said, switching the laptop on. "Windows 98? Really? Dinosaur much? Gawd, it's loading soo sloowwlly. Going to die of old age here. In fact, death would be a kindness. Probably waaay behind on the updates, ah too much on the startup slowing the boot speed. You don't need most of those."

_Horrible, slow thing. Why would Derek even want it fixed? Since when does he like computer stuff? He likes being outside in the woods, all sour and surly. And why ask me to help, when he could ask the pack? Where is Scott …and the others? They wouldn't have sent Derek to babysit me…would they? Must have gone to The Council without me?! Bastards! Have to get rid of Derek._

Stiles rapidly tapped keys. "Look, I don't know what you did to this laptop, but it's glitched. Or bugged. Or maybe both. Point is, I can only partially recover whatever was on the hard drive. Probably."

Derek leaned in closer, to view the files listed on the screen. Close enough for Stiles to feel his body heat.

_He's too close! Ack!_

"I'm gonna need another hard drive to back it up and no, you can't infect my computer. And then we can reinstall Windows. Or get Windows 8. Or just get a whole new laptop. That would fix it! What's this? A video file?! Is it porn? Aha, I knew it!"

Derek grabbed the laptop, snapping it closed.

"Get in the car. We're going shopping."

"Bu-"

"Now, Stiles."

Stiles reluctantly got in the passenger side, watching Derek as he got in, placing the laptop carefully back behind the seat.

"So…" Stiles began, as the car pulled out. "Tell me what's the deal with this laptop?"

"I need the files off it," Derek replied, focusing on the road.

"So you don't care about the actual laptop?"

"No."

"Well just so you know, I'm not the expert with this sort of thing. My friend Danny is the computer whiz."

"Right, so you can get me to strip again? No, no Danny. Ever." Derek sneered.

"Ok okay, point taken. Not one of my finest moments, sure. But you should love the skin you're in! And you have nice ahh…skin."

Derek glared at Stiles.

"What? Haven't you seen the ads?"

Derek's face remained blank.

"Nevermind. You do realize I'm not going to shut up with my endless, annoying babble until you tell me the deal with this laptop. Tell me! Spill! Spill! Spill!" Stiles made jabbing pokes into Derek's solid arm. Which Stiles stopped immediately, when Derek gave him his full focus.

Derek sighed, his attention back on the road.

Silence loomed in the car as the road stretched on.

_This is all one big Keep-the-Useless-Human-Away Operation. Distract stupid Stiles with crappy computer mystery. Dammit! Should start planning how to ditch Derek at the shops…maybe framed larceny?…wait, can he smell that too? I'm gonna kill Scott when I save him from the damned Council jerk wads. They are gonna kill him. Or experiment on him. Or chop him up into minced werewolf meat. Today was supposed to be Splinter Cell Saturday, but nooo, there's always something taking away my gaming time GAH!_

Stiles was brought out of his thoughts as Derek pulled into the mall parking lot.

"Today would be good, Stiles," Derek said, exiting the car.

Stiles reluctantly exited the car, following Derek.

"Oh dammit, I left my bag in the car, pass me the keys?" asked Stiles with a hand out.

Derek rolled his eyes but threw the keys over, and continued walking.

Stiles returned to the car, got his bag out and quickly fished out the object he was looking for.

"This seems awfully like a lame excuse to get me alone. Is this some stealth mall date? Because if it involves pie, all is forgiven," Stiles said, trying to catch up to Derek.

_Quick, now while his back is turned._

Stiles deliberately tripped into a very solid Derek, arms flailing around him.

_Unbroken circle. Unbroken circle. Unbroken circle._

"Watch it, Stiles!" Derek shoved Stiles off him.

Stiles rolled out of reach. Derek looked down to see what had made him suddenly immobile. At his feet was a circle of black rope .

"Ha! Let me introduce you to mountain ash ROPE! Yes! Mere human for the win!" Stiles shouted, running to Derek's car.

"STILES! GET BACK HERE!" Derek shouted, sounding very pissed off.

"I'm sorry man, but I know Scott is with the Council right now and we both know that's a very bad idea. After that, you'll get your car back," Stiles called out as he started up the car. He looked through the rear view mirror, at Derek's figure disappearing in the distance.

_Thank god that worked. Mountain ash rope is the shizz! I am the Awesome Genius of Awesomeness! This is Stiles driving with style! Sweet Ride! Will Derek be ok left there? Pfft, it's Derek, he is always ok. At the end of the world, there will be only cockroaches and Derek left…and Derek eating said cockroaches HA! Derek is probably going to kill me for this, but not before I kill Scott. What was he thinking talking to the Council without me? Those sneaky ass schemers make Peter Hale look like an amateur. Idiot Scott! If I can get there in time, maybe I can stop whatever deal he is about to set up._

Stopping at a red light, Stiles pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Scott.

"Hey Scott, it's Stiles, your awesome friend. Please, please tell me you haven't done something monumentally stupid like make a deal with the Council?"

"Seriously, Stiles?" Scott replied, sounding annoyed.

"Look I can forgive you for getting Derek to babysit me but-"

"Er, hey Stiles, you're on speaker phone, and we didn't get Derek to babysit you," Isaac's voice cut in.

"What?! Isaac is with you? What the f-"

"Stiles!" Scott interrupted "Why are you always interfering? Why can't you just trust me for once? I'm so sick of it. For once in your life just stay out!"

The line went dead.

"He hung up on me," Stiles said out loud to himself, in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

A car honked behind him. Stiles attempted to call Scott again as he resumed driving.

"Scott, listen -" Stiles began.

"Scott doesn't want to speak to you right now. Chat later," Isaac replied and then ended the call.

_What. The. Flipping. Hell. Hung up on AGAIN? Why is Scott so angry? And with Isaac? ISAAC?! Why are they always so buddy buddy? He is seriously pissed at me too. What did he do with the Council? It's something bad, it's always something bad. Why else wouldn't he tell me? I am just going to explode, like spontaneously combust with no remains to bury. But that would be bad…The solution is pie! Pie fixes everything! I shall buy a pie and take it to Scott to make amends. And maybe a pie for Derek too, although there probably isn't enough pie in the world to make Derek happy._

Stiles stopped at the Hot Stuff Bakery to pick up the pies, deciding on caramel pecan, and then made his way over to Scott's.

Scott wasn't home, so Stiles left a pie along with a note saying "I'm sorry" on the balcony. He hopped back into the car, and headed off to Derek's to return the car.

Pulling up outside of Derek's house, Stiles paused for a moment, absently drumming the steering wheel.

_Now what? Leave the pie and pray that Derek will eventually cool off?_

His eyes flicked from the pie on the passenger seat, to the laptop behind it.

_Fixing this should get some brownie points. He can't hate a helper, can he?_

Leaving the pie with yet another "I'm sorry" note behind in Derek's car, he climbed back into his beloved old jeep, taking the laptop with him. He decided to head to the police station, figuring it would be safest place to avoid an angry Derek. With a bit of luck, his father, the Sheriff, would be out on a call.

Stiles was a common enough occurrence at the police station, often there with his dad or waiting for him, so the deputies just ignored Stiles, unless he also brought them snacks. When he entered the station, laptop in tow, the deputy manning the front desk just waved Stiles on through, preoccupied with an arguing couple.

Stiles found a vacant desk and set up the battered old laptop. He pulled out a keychain thumb drive that he had conveniently forgotten to tell Derek about, and plugged it in, setting to work on recovering the files.

_This is taking forever to load. Like longer than it takes James Cameron to make a movie. Ugh! Derek has seriously bad taste in hardware. Derek should have called by now._

Stiles checked his phone. It was on silent and he had four missed calls and couple of texts, all from Derek. They read;

11: 24, "What the hell was that for? You better come back with my car NOW & ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE!"

11:40, "Do you know how long it took to persuade someone to help me?! I'll cut off your ballsack and suffocate you with it!"

11:45, "I will chew off your arm and beat you with it until YOU ENJOY IT!"

11:48, "AFTER I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU'RE GONNA WISH YOU WERE DEAD & I'M GONNA BURY YOU WITH YOUR DAMN PHONE!"

12:05, "Pie?! Really? I'm gonna feed you that pie till you choke!"

Stiles cackled to himself and quickly sent off a reply.

"Wow, I didn't realise you were capable of flirting or into kink. But that's ok, The Stiles Service can meet all your needs, provided you have placed a booking in advance. PS. maybe if you weren't such a grumpy-pants, it would be easier to find help."

_Haha! I wish I could see his face right now. Probably having The Deathstar of Hissy Fits! Ten points for the Stiles. Haha! Wait, this isn't actually flirting with him, is it? Too weird and all kinds of wrong._

Stiles' stomach rumbled. He hadn't had lunch yet and the laptop was taking forever. Time for lunch. He left the police station, crossing the street to a greasy takeaway shop.

_I wonder how much spare change I've got on me. Hmn, curly fries or a shake…Holy Moses! Derek is inbound! Geez, even from this distance he is fuming._

Stiles exited the shop in a hurry, narrowly avoiding a collision with a signpost.

_Quick, exit, escape! Police station? Too far. Um, the empty street to the left? No, not safe. Shop? No. Think, think! Old couple, no. Tall jogger - wait that's Danny! Derek avoids Danny!_

"Danny! Danny!" Stiles called, waving his arms like a madman, but Danny didn't seem to notice. Stiles moved quickly to intercept Danny, blocking the bigger teen's path. Danny was one of those rare individuals that could go for a jog and still look impossibly photogenic. He didn't sweat, he _glistened._

Danny came to a halt and took out his headphones."Stiles?"

"Danny, just the person I need right now! Man, you're a saviour!" Stiles said rapidly, throwing a glance back at Derek, with a face so furious, that Stiles was surprised the road hadn't started to crack and boil.

"Hello, Stiles?" Danny gave him a weird look. Stiles blinked, trying to get his mind into gear.

"I, ahh, I need your help with something. It's urgent you come with me right now. I can drop you home. Yes, excellent idea. "

"But that's whole point of jogging. To jog home." Danny protested, but Stiles had already started pushing Danny towards his jeep.

"Look I'll let you jog home from my place, that's how nice I am. I just have a massive-" Stiles looked over at Derek, who seemed to be retreating, "Ah, massive computer problem. Yeah."

"Isn't that your cousin, Miguel?" Danny asked, his eyes suddenly wide.

"What?! No, that's crazy talk. Speaking of, have you spoken with Lydia? Great, let's go." Stiles said, bundling Danny into the old jeep, not waiting for a reply.

Stiles continued his endless barrage of words, all the way to his house, until he had gotten Danny to his bedroom. Stiles directed Danny to a chair, plonking himself on the bed nearby.

"Stiles, are you going to tell me what's really going on? I know it's not about your computer." Danny asked. He might have a pretty face, but Danny was certainly no fool.

"Well, um, yeah, I have to confess I didn't ask you here because of that," Stiles paused, his mind suddenly blank. Danny waited patiently, all perfect hair and lean muscles. Life could just be so cruel.

"I um, was wondering, does it make you gay to flirt with a guy?" Stiles asked, feeling really awkward.

"No...it doesn't," said Danny cautiously.

"When did you know that you were, um, you know... gay?" Stiles asked his sleeve, which had become very interesting all of a sudden.

"Oh god, we are not having this conversation right now." Danny said, looking very uncomfortable.

"Why not? It's not like I'm asking for details or an itinerary or how-to-guide with diagrams or even a date. What? Why pull that face?"

"Because. You're not my friend. You only bother to contact me when you want something. I am not your gay sensei or some sex advice column. I don't have an "it gets better speech". I'm just one of the guys, on the same lacrosse team. That's it. " Danny said, standing up.

"Oh come on, I'm not asking you to be like a glee gay friend, and collect chorus books or something. I just want to get past this momentary lapse out of...of...whatever and I'm sure if I just like try to kiss you, I'll come to my senses." Stiles blurted out.

Danny snorted, clearly offended. He moved to exit the room, with Stiles stumbling after him downstairs.

"That came out wrong, I'm sorry. Multitudes of sorry. I'm an asshat with the worst timing for thinking I could just jump right in, blindside you with this crazy kiss experiment talk. Oh crap, Dad?!" Stiles said, out of breath.

Stiles' dad was there, frozen opening the front door.

"Bye Mr Stilinski." Danny called out, as he bolted past the Sheriff.

"Please don't ask Dad, just don't ask." Stiles was curled up in a ball on the couch. His Dad gave him a reassuring pat and kindly left him in the room.

_I just offended the nicest guy in school. I am a total asshat. Kiss Danny?! What was I thinking? This is beyond mortification. This is PROFOUND and UTTER mortification! This is ridiculous. You like girls - not guys. NEVER GUYS! You're just letting Derek's stupid scowly-face, with those cheekbones and that scruffy stubble get to you. That body isn't normal, hell, it isn't even human! That body is...Oh crap, I'm gay for Derek Hale?_


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, silence reigned supreme at the Stilinski household. Not a word was spoken. Not even when Stiles swapped his dad's bacon and eggs, for muesli with yoghurt.

John Stilinski glumly ate his muesli, trying to come up with a safe conversation topic.

"Steve mentioned that I missed you at the station. Why didn't you call?"

Stiles looked up from attacking his breakfast, and stared at his dad. Of course! How could he forget!

"I forgot that I left something there. Dad, you are totally awesomesauce! Gotta run!" Stiles got up and grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.

"Guess that leaves me on cleanup duty." John said, spearing himself a piece of Stiles' bacon.

As Stiles went outside, he noticed the remains of a pie, mashed into the hood of his jeep. Closer inspection revealed even his note was there, all torn up. "Now that's just cruel." Stiles said out loud, shaking his head. Waste of a perfectly good pie.

When he eventually arrived at the police station, the laptop was still there, untouched, right where he'd left it.

"Let's see what we're working with," Stiles said, after checking how the file recovery had progressed. He plugged the thumb drive into a nearby computer, and started to scan the recovered files.

There seemed to be a large amount of college papers stored on the drive, along with a video file, some pictures, and multiple files with an extension that Stiles didn't recognize. A quick google search told him that he needed AutoCAD to open those.

Most of the pictures were works of art. There were so many. Large oversized faces with abstract geometric patterns, lashed with bright, bold colors and tribal animals were consistent themes. The next folder seemed to be some sort of gallery exhibition. with paintings that were much darker in theme and tone. And then, alongside a full sized portrait of a fierce frost-girl with her hair ablaze, stood a younger, shaggy haired Derek. A  _smiling_  Derek!

Stiles was stunned.

And another shot of shaggy Derek, still smiling, with an arm around a pretty, dark haired woman.

_That's probably his sister, Laura. Wow. I shouldn't be looking at these._

But instead of shutting down, Stiles opened up the video file.

The camera followed a little girl in a pink fairy costume, who was showing off her presents.

"This is from Nan and Poppa," she said, pointing to a dollhouse. "And this is the bestest teddy ever from Uncle Petey and Aunty Annie." She leaned forward and whispered, "It has hidden candy in the back but Uncle Petey said not to share." she lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "It's a secret. Shhh!"

"Not even your favorite Cousin Laura?" said Laura, from behind the camera.

"No," said the little girl solemnly. "Come look at Bubbles the Clown! This way!" she said, pulling at Laura's hand.

A bubble-blowing clown came into view, surrounded by a crowd of small children.

"Oh look, it's Doo-Doo the Clown!" Laura called out.

"Doo-doo!" the kids shrieked with laughter.

The clown gave the camera an all too familiar glare.

_This is gold! Derek the Clown! Haha! He is never gonna live this down! How kind of him to do that for her. Just wow!_

In the last scene of the video, the Hale family was singing 'Happy Birthday' to the little girl as she blew out candles on a big yellow cake.

Stiles decided to print out the picture files and even a few screencaps from the video whilst transferring the data onto a cd. He put it all into a manila folder he found before leaving the station.

_Maybe bringing Derek this will stop him from being mad at me. Who am I kidding, it's Derek. Scott's still mad at me. Still hasn't returned my calls from last night. And then that Danny fiasco! God! I'm on everyone's hate list today. Ooh Hot Stuff Bakery! I feel partial to a mud cake. Cake! That's it! Derek destroyed that pie but maybe if I make him that yellow cake from the video? Even he couldn't stay mad in the face of something so nice, right?_


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles walked up to the entrance of the burnt out shell that was the Hale house. It was now evening. He had spent most of the day working on Derek's cake, which he had put in a box, along with the laptop and folder.

The house was dark and quiet. If Derek was here, his wolf-senses would have already made him aware of Stiles' arrival. Stiles drew in a deep breath. "Derek? You home?" he called out. Nervous but undeterred.

Stiles heard something heavy being crushed, deep within the house.

"GET OUT!" yelled Derek, from further in.

"Derek, I-" Stiles began, stopping to dodge a large piece of debris flying towards his head.

"All right then, I get the message. Stiles is in the naughty corner. How bout I just leave this box right here and leave you alone to your precious angry thoughts?" Stiles set the box down near the door.

A bestial roar shook the whole house. Stiles fled to his jeep and headed back home.

The next day was a blur for Stiles, he was just glad when it was over. Avoiding Danny at school had required a lot of effort. Stiles was making his way out to the parking lot when he spotted Allison just ahead.

"Hey Allison! Wait up!" he called.

"Hiya Stiles," said Allison, turning around with a small smile.

"How are you? I couldn't find you at lunch. Have you heard from Scott?" Stiles asked, words tumbling out rapidly.

"Things are...fine. I'm fine. I was in the library at lunch. And I spoke with Scott last night," she replied, continuing to make her way outside.

"Did he by any chance mention why he is so mad at me? Or why he isn't at school today?"

"I don't know, we only spoke for a little bit. He seemed a bit odd. But at least he's with Isaac."

"Isaac again! Always Isaac! Why God, why?" Stiles pleaded, waving his arms dramatically.

_Am I that easily replaced? Well if he doesn't want The Stiles, it's his loss. Bah! Will probably get a call from him, all sad and sorry for himself, "Stiles I missed you so much, life is like flat coke without you, please take me back!" Well it's not like Scott to brush off Allison. Isn't she wearing the same old clothes from last week? Girls don't do that, well not nice girls like Allison. Laundry day, she had said last week. Hmn...Erica and Boyd related, no doubt. Need to keep an eye out for her._

"Well, I'm going to go," said Allison, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts, as she nodded her head towards her dad's car.

"Hey um, I have some ideas for your...thing, that you do. Maybe we could discuss it later, like tomorrow lunch?" Stiles asked.

"Um okay, sounds good. See you then." Allison gave him a brief wave before getting into her car.

Stiles spent the drive home preoccupied with thoughts of Allison, thinking of ways he could help her. The driveway was empty as he pulled up; his dad was working late yet again. Stiles trudged up the stairs to his room. It was his habit to chill out by playing games with Scott after school, but that wasn't going to happen today. Stiles sighed and dumped his books on his desk.

A shadow moved out of the corner of his eye. Next thing Stiles knew he found himself pinned against the wall, an angry Derek in front of him.

"You! You annoying little shit," Derek spat out, his green eyes boring into Stiles. He thrust the black rope in Stiles' face. "What were you thinking with this?"

"Oh hey Derek, nice to see you too. Why don't you come in and make yourself at home, let me go put a nice pot of tea on," Stiles said sarcastically.

"Shut up! I should shake you until your teeth rattle out of your skull! Hell, I wanted to kill you yesterday, you moron! You don't visit an angry alpha!"

Stiles stared at Derek.

_Since when is Derek not angry?Not fair. That's my special skill, making people mad. It's a pathetic I'm not even attempting to push him off me. It's kinda nice having him so close and that big hand of his around my neck. Maybe I'm into bondage, god help me! His stubble, it almost has a pattern to it... Is that deliberate or natural? In fact, where does Derek even shower? Both the Hale house and warehouse don't have the water connected...No, I will not picture Derek in the shower, all naked and wet. Maybe he licks himself clean like a cat! HAHA! No, I do not want to die today. God, I really do need serious help._

Derek gave Stiles an odd look and stepped away from him.

"And Danny? You ran off with him. You brought him to your room!" Derek said, his lips curling back. Stiles wasn't sure if that was a statement or an accusation.

"Derek, I'm really sorry tha- " Stiles began.

Derek's nostrils flared. Derek was out of the room and downstairs in a blur of black denim and leather.

"Okay then, let's not behave like normal people today, excellent." Stiles said aloud to himself, knowing that Derek could still hear him. He went downstairs to join Derek, finding him in the kitchen.

"You made more than one cake?" Derek asked. He had found the cakes Stiles had made yesterday. Derek was flipping the lids off the containers and sniffing each cake.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure which one was the right type, so I made a few. And, you really shouldn't open that one - Oh too late." Stiles said. Derek had already opened the last container and took a sniff. He pulled a face and quickly shut it again.

_Ooh a sourface! So cute! Wish I'd taken a picture._

"Yeah that one's a bit Frankenstein. It was getting late and I was starting to go crazy," Stiles said. Derek gave him a pointed look. "Okay...crazier."

Derek had found a spoon and started to devour a cake, eating it straight from the container.

"I am really sorry about the other day, but you know Scott meeting up with those Council cunts wouldn't end well. I had to do something and you wouldn't let me leave," Stiles began, chewing on a twizzler.

Derek shook his head, mouth full of cake. Stiles tried not to focus on obscene thoughts of Derek and his full mouth.

"Ohhh, you didn't know he was going. Of course! Makes sense. Well, I'm a total dumbass. I didn't know what was on the laptop and I didn't get why you were so angry. So I saw you coming at me, all Angry Alpha of Impending Doom-" Derek snorted. "And I just freaked, Danny was there and..." Stiles trailed off, remembering what happened with Danny. "And let's not talk about Danny. Ever. Oh yeah, thanks for returning the pie. It's a sad day when there's violence against pies."

Derek dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone, showing Stiles a picture of his family. "Look. This is why I was mad. I have plenty of photos of Laura but for years, this was the only one I had of my family. Then we found the ones on the laptop, which you then disappeared with. And I don't know what you're on about with the pie. I ate it. I don't waste a good pie."

Stiles took a deep breath. "Oh," he said softly. "I really am sorry. If I'd known what was on the laptop, I wouldn't have been such a stupid dickhead. I would totally hate me. In fact, I think I do hate me." Stiles covered his face with his hands.

Derek stared at the floor.

"I don't," Derek said quietly, his spoon now idle. "Was nice, what you did with the cake. And those printouts..."

"You saw the stuff on the cd, right?" Stiles asked. Derek nodded. "Well, I thought that if you had printouts, you could..." his voice trailed off.

"Thought what?"

"Well, I thought you could do a send off thing maybe. It helped me find closure with -" Stiles felt his throat choke up. "Well you know...when it happened to me."

Derek stared at Stiles, his face unreadable. Silence was heavy in the small kitchen. After a moment, he turned and began putting the lids back on the containers, avoiding the Frankenstein cake.

"Get some string, spoons. And something to drink," Derek said, bundling the cakes into a bag.

"Wha-"

"Now. Before I change my mind. You have two minutes," Derek called out, already walking out the door. Stiles scrambled into action, hurrying to gather everything.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles was sitting on an old fallen log, on a low bank overlooking the nearby lake. He wondered why Derek had decided to bring him to such a secluded spot. It was pretty here, with the fading afternoon sun filtering through the trees, turning the lake a liquid amber. The car ride over had been in silence and he felt too awkward to break it now. Derek was preoccupied with destroying branches into a mass of twigs. Satisfied with the pile he created, Derek joined Stiles on the log.

"Ask," Derek said, starting on a cake. "You're buzzing with questions. I can see it."

"I um, " Stiles paused, wondering what topics would be safe to talk about. "Was that your exhibition?"

Derek nodded, passing the folio over to Stiles, who pulled out some of the pages with artwork.

"My art knowledge is pretty limited but these are really amazing, beautiful even," Stiles said, looking through them.

"I had some small degree of skill. I got into a big deal art college early. Laura was proud," Derek said, munching on cake. "When I was younger, I was obsessed with this tribal motif and that's when I did these." He pointed to another one depicting a dark figure atop of a stormy cliff surrounded by tribalistic animals. "I was a stupid, rebellious shit. Didn't want anything do with werewolves or the pack at home. So I joined Laura in New York. She was studying architecture there. Not long after, that's when that happened," Derek said bitterly, pointing at another page. It was a painting of a small boy in a melting house of colour.

Derek looked so dejected and miserable. Stiles felt for him, but he knew from experience that pity and platitudes would be useless.

"Want a drink?" Stiles passed over a bottle of soda.

"Soda?! You brought soda? When you're asked to bring a drink, that doesn't mean soda," Derek said, familiar glare back in place.

"What? You're a freakin  _werewolf_! Newsflash, you can't  _get_ drunk!" Stiles threw his arms up in the air.

"I should do everyone a favor and just drown you in the lake," huffed Derek, but he took the soda anyway, drinking from the bottle.

"What? Eat my cake and then murder me?! How rude! Bah! So, do you still paint?" Stiles asked, digging in to Derek's cake whilst he was occupied.

"No. That's not me anymore." Derek looked down at his hands.

"Well that's a pity because I liked Long Haired Hippie Derek," Stiles said, bumping Derek with his shoulder. Derek gave him a death glare and took the cake off Stiles. "This girl is your sister Laura?" Stiles asked. "Wait, the frost girl painting is her!" Derek nodded.

The painting itself was a full-sized portrait of a ghostly blue frost-girl, a dark burgundy sky with an huge oppressive moon looming over her. The girl had a bold, fierce expression despite her wild fiery hair and frozen skin.

"This one is my favorite. It's amazing. It just hits you in the gut like, Bam! What happened to it?" Stiles asked.

"Sold it. Same with the rest in that show." Derek finished off the cake.

"And the others?"

"The fire."

"Oh." Stiles looked at his feet, feeling stupid, and hating that bitch, Kate Argent, even more.

"I'm glad to see these pictures again, not sad," Derek said, gently nudging Stiles. "Laura's laptop was water damaged. I thought the photos were lost forever. I haven't seen them in years. Laura was always so strong, and tough, more than I'll ever be. She dropped out of college and worked two jobs. Forced me to finish school. Kept the screws in. There was no other option."

Derek got up and started gathering the twigs into little bundles. "String," he said, hand out. Digging in his pocket, Stiles gave him what he had brought.

"Shoelaces?!" Derek spat out, brows furrowing in disgust.

Stiles shrugged. "Dude, you only gave me a minute and I saw Dad's old shoes."

"Really, Stiles, I don't know how your Dad puts up with you," Derek said, shaking his head.

"Hey!" yelled Stiles, indignant.

_Bastard! I'm going to scull all his drink._

Stiles lifted the bottle to his lips and drank.

_Derek drank straight from the bottle too. It's like kissing him. Oh my god! How immature! Shutup!_

Derek began tying the twig bundles up, apparently overcoming his shoe lace aversion. He told Stiles stories about the various family members at the little girl's party. She was Derek's cousin Robyn, and they'd been celebrating her sixth birthday in the video. Lemon syrup cakes were a Hale family birthday tradition.

Stiles watched Derek work on the bundles, his fingers surprisingly nimble. The fading late afternoon sun drenched Derek in golden sepia tones, highlighting the twitch of muscle in his arms, his face's profile.

_No. You are NOT having pervy thoughts at this time. This is a highly inappropriate time for said thoughts. This is a time for sad, funeral thoughts. Funeral? Ha! It will be my funeral for crushing on Derek Hale. He is completely straight, murder is the only thing he wants to do to me. It's not like you have a chance anyway. Look at him. He is LIGHT YEARS out of your league._

Derek had fashioned the bundles into a crudely woven, tiny football-sized raft as competing thoughts warred within Stiles' mind. If Stiles was really honest with himself, it was all one big distraction to stop him remembering his own mother's passing. 

"And Peter was always...eccentric but he was nothing like how he is now. He died in the fire too," Derek said solemnly.

Derek gathered up all pictures, wedging them into his little raft. Then he handed Stiles the raft to hold. Derek bent down, taking off his shoes and rolling up the bottoms of his jeans. Stiles handed the raft back when he was done. Derek went out to the lake shoreline and pulled out an engraved silver lighter.

"This was Laura's," Derek said in a tight, small voice. He tried several times to get a light but his hand was shaking too much. "Fuck!"

Stiles came over and wordlessly placed his hands over Derek's, steadying him. Derek breathed deeply, and tried again, this time lighting the tinder. He waded out into the lake, pushing the little raft out.

Derek waded back to the shoreline and silently watched the little raft catch alight, his back to Stiles.

_Was he trembling?_

Stiles put his hand on Derek's shoulder. Derek tensed up at first, but stopped trembling.

Stiles' thoughts were of his mother's funeral, his own horrible dark day. Being the one left behind is a shitty thing.

Together they watched the raft burn up and sink into the lake. The sun slowly began to set, streaking the lake in reds and purples. A breeze picked up. Stiles shivered.

"Let's go, before it gets dark." Derek said, drawing in a deep breath.

Neither of them said anything on the way to Stiles' house. They were too absorbed in their own thoughts.

Derek pulled up at the Stilinski house. Stiles was about to get out when Derek reached out, his hand on Stiles' arm.

"Don't forget your rope." Derek tossed the black rope into Stiles' lap. "You're a clever little shit but if the hunters ever got on to this idea or you use it on me again..."

"I know, I know. There will be much ripping of throats. With teeth." Stiles waved it off nonchalantly.

"And thanks. For today. You get how it is," Derek said awkwardly, his eyes downcast.

Stiles gaped in shock. "No biggie, man," he said, attempting to sound casual. He got out of the car and watched Derek drive off.

_Derek never says thank you. And then he gives me a compliment in the same day?! What the holy hell?!_


	5. Chapter 5

Scott and Isaac were still absent the following day at school. Stiles was worried. He voiced his concerns to Allison, during lunch at the school cafeteria.

"I haven't spoken to him since the other day," Allison said, picking at her salad. She looked too pale and skinny, in the same worn, old clothes from the other day. "I don't know what's going on with him. Things haven't been, you know, like how it was before."

Stiles stabbed at his pasta with his fork. "Well, I'm going over to his place today, even if I have to force my way in, and find out whatever it is. And make him regret being such a goddamn idiot. I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that." Allison looked down, her long dark hair hiding her face. "I miss him. I really miss Lydia too. Sucks that we can't even call her."

"Yeah, I do too. Hell, I almost even miss Jackson. They're probably at some exclusive beach resort in Mexico by now, terrorizing everyone into submission," joked Stiles, earning a small smile from Allison. But he knew that wasn't the truth. Jackson had needed a whole new identity after his "supposed" death and Lydia had refused to leave his side. No, they were gone, probably over the border, and definitely not on vacation.

"But that doesn't mean they get to have all the fun. Come over to my place this Thursday, after school. I should have it completed by then."

"Please don't tell me it's another one of your crazy ideas," Allison groaned, dropping her fork. "That last mod of yours ruined my bow."

"Well yes, if you must know, it is another patented Stilinski Special," he said, pretending to be slighted. "But it's a surprise, a brilliant, ingenious surprise! You won't find out unless you come over."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll be there on Thursday."

Stiles suddenly dove under the table.

Allison poked her head under the table. "What are you doing, Stiles?" she said, looking at Stiles like he lost his mind.

"I...I lost my contact lense!" Stiles said, running his hands over the floor.

Allison gave Stiles a weird look. "But you don't wear contacts."

"I might do! Ok fine, stop looking at me like that! Is he gone?"

"Is who gone?" Allison sat back up and looked around. "There's no one nearby, well there's Danny and the boys. Wait, it is Danny, isn't it? Stiles, tell me what you did to him!"

"Why does everyone always think that I'm the culprit, the most obvious perpetrator?" asked Stiles, throwing up his hands in mock protest. His face felt bright red.

"It's Danny. He's so sweet to everyone. Anyway, he's left now, so will you please get out from under the table? People are starting to stare."

_I'm acting like a freakazoid! Oh god, I hope Danny didn't notice me! I want to crawl away and die. Maybe if Lydia was still here my obsessive fixation wouldn't have let Derek get to me. But no, instead I'm baking all day and hiding under tables. Goodbye sanity._

Stiles had almost forgotten his embarrassment by the time he had arrived at Scott's house. He clambered up the steps, paper bag in hand. Isaac appeared at the door before Stiles could knock. Isaac's blonde hair was a mess, he wore only a torn pair of jeans and worried expression.

"Hey Isaac, of course you'd be here," said Stiles, feeling frustrated.

Isaac blocked the doorway. "Stiles, you need to leave. It's not safe for you here."

A crash came from within the house.

"Go!" yelled Isaac, as he moved to shove Stiles away and close the door. There was a brief scuffle from behind the door and then Scott burst out, throwing himself at Stiles.

"STILES! BROWNIES!" beamed Scott, as he snatched the paper bag off Stiles. Scott had already ripped it open and began devouring the chocolate peanut butter brownies. Stiles was pleased his secret weapon had the desired effect.

Stiles smirked at Isaac."Guess I'm wanted here after all." He noticed that Scott was covered white dust and only a pair of boxer shorts. "Why are you all covered in dust and where are your pants? Hey stop that, Stiles is not a toy!"

Scott had picked up Stiles in a bear hug, and bounded off with him inside the house. "Apology accepted! I'm so happy you're here! I really missed you!" he said, bouncing around.

"Put me down! Ow! You're hurting me!" Stiles began to feel crushed in Scott's iron grip.

"Hey Scott, you still have a brownie left," said Isaac, holding it out. Scott snatched at it, releasing Stiles.

"Thanks," Stiles said to Isaac, flexing out his back. Stiles looked around the living room. It was a mess. There was clothes and rubbish strewn everywhere, furniture had been moved up against the closet door and even a sizable hole in the wall.

"What the hell happened here? Will someone please tell me what's going on?" demanded Stiles.

Isaac sighed. "I heard you coming, so I locked him in the closet."

"And I got...OUT!" sang out Scott. His smiling face was smeared with chocolate brownie.

"The wall? That was you bursting through it?!" spluttered Stiles.

Scott nodded, delighted with himself. Stiles gaped at Scott and then Isaac in shock.

"Hey Scott, why don't you put a movie on for us?" asked Isaac, making eyes at Stiles.

"Yes," said Stiles, catching on. "That's exactly why I am here. To watch a movie with my good friend, Scott. And Isaac."

"The Dark Knight!" yelled Scott, jumping to put the movie on. Isaac pushed the couch back in front of the tv and they settled down to watch the movie.

"I know everything seems crazy, but I can explain," Isaac began earnestly. "Last Friday, we caught the scent of the Council guys and went looking for them. As you already know, they killed the alpha pack and freed Boyd and Erica, so we thought they were the good guys. Scott thought it was worth a shot asking them if they knew of a werewolf cure."

"So I could date Allison without making her sad," piped up Scott, eyes glued to the screen.

"So they did this magic thing to him and he's been super... emotional since. I've been trying to keep him home, so he won't hurt anyone. You know he even bit me yesterday! Deaton is trying to figure out what's going on with him," continued Isaac.

"Come on man. The devil is in the details! Where were they? How many of them were there? What exactly was said?" Stiles prodded Isaac.

"Well, there was four women. I think three of them might have been the same three women that Erica and Boyd saw. There was a really fat, old woman who looked feral, a beautiful goth chick with pale eyes, and that crazy girl with scars who kept laughing. The fourth was just a drop dead gorgeous, redheaded stunner. She smelt different than the others, something amazing. I think she was flirting with me," Isaac said.

"Noo, she was flirting with me!" chimed in Scott.

"Anyways, they seemed to defer to the goth chick. It was her and the crazy one that did the talking. We found them at a house near the local community college. Scott introduced himself and explained that he knew they were the Council and that they had rescued our friends. They laughed at that. Crazy Girl started singing some nonsense about dancing on the moon. Goth Chick asked Scott what did he really want. Scott told them he didn't want to be a werewolf, that he wanted his humanity back. And that's when Goth Chick did her magic thing to Scott's head. A sort of purple mist."

"Wait, those were his exact words?" asked Stiles, frowning.

"Yeah," nodded Isaac.

"It sounds like they playing some sort of lameass joke. Oh you want to be a human, here take ten times the emotions of one, sucker."

"I am NOT emotional!" glowered Scott. Isaac and Stiles laughed at him.

"But whatever they did to you, you're still a werewolf. Ms McCall is gonna flip when she see this mess. By the way, where is she? Don't tell me you locked her up in a closet too?" asked Stiles, looking around the messy room. Isaac made a face at him.

"No!  _Isaac_  sent her away to stay at the hospital.  _Isaac_  thinks I'd hurt my own mom.  _Isaac_ isn't the boss of me!" said Scott, shoving at Isaac, his eyes glowing bronze. The two boys fell to the floor in a tumble of limbs and fangs. Stiles moved quickly to jump out of the way.

Isaac held Scott at arm's length, avoiding his snapping jaws. "You get it now? It's not safe for you here. Ow!" Scott had given up on trying to bite Isaac's face, deciding to bite the arm grabbing at him instead.

"Scott, stop that biting. We've only got one Isaac. We can't just go to the store and buy another one." Stiles crouched next to Scott. "This whole angry wolf thing isn't you. It's spell or whatever, affecting you. Come on, let go," he said, gently working to release Isaac's arm.

Scott stared at Stiles and then Isaac, his eyes wide. "You're right. I _am_ an angry werewolf! I'm a monster! Look what I did to Isaac!" cried Scott. "I'm so sorry Isaac! I didn't mean to hurt you like that! Please forgive me for being so awful! Are we still friends?" He clutched at Isaac, sobbing into his neck.

"Yes, we are friends okay. Just let me go, geez," said Isaac, trying prise Scott off him.

"Scott was fine when we were watching the movie. I think he just needs to be occupied," said Stiles. Scott looked a mess, blood and tears adding to the white dust and chocolate that he was covered in. "Maybe you should both go get cleaned up."

"I DON'T WANT A SHOWER!" bellowed Scott, fully wolfed out. Stiles flinched, reflexively covering his head. Scott froze, squeezing his face. "I just did it again. I'm a horrible, horrible person."

"So what if you want to yell and wolf out. It's no big deal. You're my best friend," shrugged Stiles. "Water under the bridge. Speaking of water, I think you'll feel better getting all clean and sudsy. Imagine the bubbles."

"Bubbles! I want a bubble bath," said Scott, his face lit up. He suddenly bolted out the door, Isaac in pursuit.

"He's probably headed to my place, we have a bath," Stiles called out, hoping Isaac heard him. Stiles raced out to his jeep. He made quick call to Boyd as he drove back home, explaining the situation and that his werewolf ass was needed, pronto. He left his jeep haphazardly parked out the front of his house, grateful that his dad wasn't home, and raced inside.

Stiles could hear the boys' bickering in the bathroom as he made his way upstairs, phone in hand.

"Stop it Scott!"

And then laughter. Scott's.

"Don't squirt it so much."

More laughter.

"Dammit, you got me all wet!"

_What in x-rated hell are they up to? Those hasty deviants._

Stiles poked his head in the bathroom to find Scott dragging Isaac almost out of his jeans, and into the frothy bath. The two of them dripping in bubbles, and getting them everywhere.

"Oh this is gold!" crowed Stiles, quickly snapping a picture with his phone.

"Hey!" said Isaac, trying to wipe the bubbles from his blushing face. He made a grab for the phone, but Stiles had darted away. Isaac chased after him but kept slipping and crashing into things. Scott was rolling on the floor, having fits of laughter. Isaac launched himself into Stiles, managing pin his wrist as they fell to the floor.

"No, I'm not going to give it up! Get off me!" said Stiles. He tucked the phone down his pants, figuring Isaac wouldn't go there. He was wrong.

Isaac tried to his dig his hand in. "I don't care if I have to rip your pants off. Give it to me!"

"Get your hands off my son!" shouted Sheriff Stilinski, still in uniform and standing on the landing with his gun pointed at Isaac. Stiles and Isaac looked up in horror.

"Sheriff! I.. I didn't mean-" said Isaac, scuttling backwards.

Stiles stood up. "Oh god! Dad, it's not what it looks like, I swear." His phone slipped out his trouser leg. Scott burst out laughing.

Mr Stilinski holstered his gun and jabbed a finger at Scott and Isaac. "Scott? I want you two out. Now." The two boys quickly made their exit, fumbling with their wet clothes. He turned to Stiles. "What the hell is going on? Is it drugs?"

"A bit overkill with the whole gun pointing, don't you think? And no, Dad, I am not a crazy drug addict. See! Look at my eyes," said Stiles, pulling at his eyes.

Mr Stilinski snorted. "I meant that Lahey kid. I know my own son is crazy enough without drugs." Stiles scowled at that. "The gun was just a scare tactic, the safety was still on. I get home to find your jeep abandoned and the front door left wide open. I head upstairs in a panic, only to find you're being threatened and pinned by that half naked and wet chump! What was I supposed to think?" He stepped closer to his son and said in a hushed tone, "Is this about the other day when I came home to find you trying to...you know,  _kiss that bo_ y?"

"Geez, Dad! Don't even. I wish it was drugs now!" said Stiles, as he buried his face in his hands. His dad's phone rang, luckily for Stiles. The Sheriff sighed and briefly conferred with the caller.

"I'm needed down at the station. More of the same juvenile delinquent behaviour," said Mr Stilinski, rubbing his temple.

"What are you talking about? You just got home."

"Some oversized party down at that park near the community college. Nothing to concern you. But this conversation isn't over," Mr Stilinski said pointedly, heading towards the front door. "And I want that mess cleaned up by the time I get back."

A sudden work emergency calling his dad out late at night was a frequent occurrence. Stiles knew the drill. He sighed and set to work cleaning up.

Boyd had left a message, saying he had picked up Scott and Isaac, and that he'd stay to help with Scott. After a quick call to update Allison, Stiles wandered over to his room, debating whether to do homework or play Halo.

His window suddenly slid open, and Derek entered in a fluid movement. He was clad all in black and his usual leather jacket.

"Oh sure, just casually enter through the window, like it's the most normal thing in the world. Maybe I should put a welcome mat outside it, just for you," said Stiles, turning his desk chair to face Derek.

_Who does he think he is, entering my bedroom looking ten different kinds of sexy. Hell, I'd put a welcome mat above my ass. Oh my god, I'm a virgin and already a pervert! Butt sex is supposed to hurt, would I even like that sort of thing? This emerging bi-curious problem is going to require extensive online research. And more lube._

Derek huffed. "I had brought you takeout, but if that's an inconvenience to your - what was the phrase you used - oh your "alone time", then I could just leave you be."

"Oh har har. Let's see the loot already. You brought me dinner?"

"I noticed your dad wasn't home and you're no use to me dead." Derek shoved a paper bag at him, his face inscrutable.

Stiles rummaged in the bag, inspecting the cartons. "Ooh pad thai, massaman curry, and what's this one,"Tom Yam Goong"? Which one do you want?" Derek shrugged, grabbing a seat across from Stiles. "Here, you have the tom yam soup thingy, it smells spicy hot even to my lameass human nose." He divvied up the containers between them.

"Thanks man, this is great. Consider yourself forgiven for throwing bits of your house at me on Saturday," said Stiles, in between mouthfuls.

Derek smirked. "If I had wanted to actually hit you, I wouldn't have missed."

"Oh. Fair point. So, assuming you didn't come here just to provide me with delicious sustenance, what's the skinny on tonight's meetup?"

"We need more information on the Council. I was with Boyd when you called him, so I know the gist of Scott and Isaac's meeting. Why didn't you call me first?" asked Derek, his dark brows furrowed.

"Because whatever they did to Scott has turned him into a hair trigger bipolar werewolf. And adding you to the mix seemed like a bad idea, given the history between you both."

"Right, so we have been have patrolling for the Council for the past few months, no sign or scent of them in Beacon Hills. They show up, mess with Scott and disappear again. Still no scent. No leads." Derek stood up and massaged the back of his neck. "Why did they have to be so stupid and go it alone?"

"Ah, so that's why you didn't arrive with Boyd, you were checking for a scent trail. Clever Derek!" Derek looked over at Stiles from the corner of his eyes. "Truly, a non sarcastic moment! Cross my heart. Anyways, it's not a total bust." Stiles turned back towards his computer.

"How so?"

"By using inductive reasoning and a few assumptions. The first time we encountered the Council, there were too many variables, thus giving us a shit ton of possibilities," Stiles said, loading up his database program. "But now we have a second meeting, with the same players plus one redhead, so let's assume that they are a group of 4 or less. And all female." He tapped at the keyboard. "They used magic in both encounters, so let's assume that's their 'modus operandi'. Using those search criteria - a group of 4 or less, magic using females - we've filtered down to thirty three results." Derek leant over Stiles, reading the screen. He had one hand on the back of the chair, behind Stiles, the other on his desk.

"And um," began Stiles, trying to remain focused, and ignore Derek looming a few inches over him. "Um, so based on Isaac mentioning that the redhead smelt different to the others - and that she wasn't there the first time - let's assume they are really a group of three. Factor that in, and we get-"

"The Council of the Crones," said Derek, reading from the screen. His mouth was so close, Stiles could feel his hot breath on his neck. "Adjudicators of the Goddess of the Moon, the Crones maintain the balance within her dominion, and help serve as a spiritual conduit. Really?"

"Oooh, and both previous incidents with the Council, werewolves were involved, who are ruled by the moon! Booya! I cracked it!"

Derek locked eyes with Stiles. "They sound more like delusional escapees from the old folks home. Stiles, are you certain about this?"

"Sure, this info is brief, not even the CliffsNotes, but now that I have a name, I can do more in depth research to confirm it. And I'll also check with Deaton. Who knows, maybe they've gone rogue, or they are being used by some other party. This is a win."

"You're right. Good job," Derek said quietly, clasping Stiles' shoulder. Stiles flinched, the contact sending shivers down his spine.

Derek straightened upright. "It's getting late. I should get going. Keep me informed." And then he was out the window before Stiles could thank him for dinner.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles normally didn't notice how messy his room was, except when a girl visited. The last time that had happened, Lydia was too upset to notice anything incriminating, well except for her gifts. He buzzed about the room, opening the window, putting things away and clearing a spot for Allison to sit.

Stiles motioned her to a chair. "Just grab a seat. Sorry about the shambles."  
"Don't worry about it, I've seen worse in Scott's room," Allison said, brushing her long dark hair out over a shoulder. Stiles noticed her bones protruding a tad too sharply.

"Here, have a muffin. If you say no, I'll be mortally offended." he said, handing her one. "It's raspberry & pistachio."

She took a bite. "It's good, thanks." Allison didn't seem terribly enthused.

"Right, so you are going to tell me what's going on with you. You're not going to fob me off with a smile, or front and pretend everything is fine. It's not. Spill."

"I'm just worried about Scott. And there's not much we can do about it. That's all. Aren't you going to show me the 'Stilinski Special'? Where is it?" asked Allison, looking around the room.

"Oh come on. We both want Scott fixed, but you know that's not what I was referring to. Please, I want to help." Stiles tried his best 'puppy dog eyes' impression.

"I'm just getting...pranked a lot. But really, it's just small stupid things." Allison looked down, picking at the muffin.

"Like what? This have anything to do with it constantly being wash day at your house?"

"All my clothes went missing, except what was in the wash. There's no point buying new clothes, so I just wear these everyday. It would just be like the car all over again."

"The car?"

Allison inhaled deeply. "Yeah, at first I thought my car was acting up, I'd get it fixed and something else would go wrong. It just got worse and worse, until one day, the brakes were cut. Luckily, I was paranoid by that stage, and checked everything before I left. So, now I just get Dad to drive me to school. Or like last month, I kept finding dead rats in my locker, I'd get rid of it and the week after, it was just full of them. Just gross. So, I just use Scott's now."

She sighed, breaking up the rest of the muffin. "It's dumb but the thing that gets to me the most, out of all of those awful pranks, is that every day I'll find a mutilated Katniss doll - that archer girl from the Hunger Games - and it will just show up randomly. I spend the day dreading when the next one will appear, worried my Dad will find it."

"Allison, this is bullying, not pranking. I bet that it's Boyd and Erica behind this." Allison slowly nodded. "You could have gone all badass hunter and confronted them. Why didn't you tell someone?" Stiles asked.

"Because I deserve it. I really do. You know what I did to them. I was so cruel. Derek hates us Argents, and my actions gave him yet another reason to add to the list. Scott's barely in the pack, I don't want to cause any more trouble for him. And I definitely don't want my Dad to find out. He's stopped doing the hunter stuff and I refuse to be the reason he gets caught up in it again. He's barely been holding it together since Mom..." Allison paused, her dark eyes watering.

Stiles met her gaze. "Hey, I hear you. I totally get what you're saying on that. I really do. Don't worry, I will handle it. You don't deserve this crap, no one does. We'll fix this. And Derek doesn't hate you. He always looks so stern and broody. it's just him. He knows it was a rough time for you, you just need to prove your loyalty to the pack. And then he'll be back to his sexy surly self."

Allison burst out laughing, her brown eyes wide. "Sexy self?! You find  _Derek sexy?_ "

_Abort! Abort! Argh! I did not just say that! At least she laughed._

"Gah! Alright fine, you got me. I think Derek Hale is sexy. Hell, I want to climb him like a tree! But you'd have to be dead and six feet in the ground to not to be attracted to him, right?" Stiles asked, feeling his face go bright red. "Wait, what was that noise?" Stiles ducked his head out the window. ****  
  
"Nice try Stiles. I won't let you change the subject. I agree that Derek does have a certain older bad boy appeal. I'm just shocked because I thought you liked girls. Well, one girl." said Allison, tilting her to one side. ****  
  
"So did I! Maybe it's temporary insanity because Lydia's gone. I've liked only Lydia for so long, my stupid brain doesn't know what it's doing without her. Or maybe I've always been bi and didn't realise it, I dunno. Doesn't matter anyway. It's not like anything will ever happen." said Stiles, pacing around the room.

"Come on Stiles, don't sell yourself short. I bet-"

"What is the Stilinski Special do you ask? Excellent question," interrupted Stiles, turning to place a box on the bed.

Allison rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

"What you're about to see could be deadly to our werewolf friends in the wrong hands, I need you to promise me that no nasty hunter person will gain knowledge of or access to this item."

"Stiles! I already told you, my Dad is out of the whole hunter business - he's not in contact with any of them either. It's just me."

Stiles said nothing and quirked an eyebrow.

"Alright, I promise to keep whatever it is, away from any hunters." said Allison, rolling her eyes.

"Great, because I've been itching to show it off." Stiles opened the box, pulling out a black long-sleeved shirt of sorts. It had segmented ridged black plastic panels covering most of it. "This is part of a motorcycle protective suit, which I modified to protect from supernatural creatures." A

Allison looked at the shirt dubiously.

Stiles whipped off his own shirt and pulled the panelled shirt on.

"I took the panels out and using my patented super-secret process, covered each in a protective circle of mountain ash. Supernatural creatures, as you know, don't run around shooting at you, all pew pew, they like to use melee attacks and this, due to my pure awesomeness, blocks those attacks! Us humans are no longer redundant and squishy!"

Allison grinned, her fingers testing the panels.

"It's light weight, black for stealth ops, and the panels can come out and be replaced. Not to mention, it feels like a freakin Batsuit!" Stiles wiggled about dancing.

"I'm impressed Stiles, this is a great idea. I just doubt I can draw a bow in that suit." Allison said, arching her brow.

"Funny you should say that, fair lady, because today we have just the deal for you." Stiles dug in the box, pulling out another item. "This one goes over your arms and shoulders only. I knew you needed the arms not attached to the chest piece for maximum motion and range, to use bow or throw knives, or maybe just to slap Scott around." He pulled out a chest piece. "This one is for your chest."

Allison picked up the shoulder piece. "I don't know about that corset thing but I'll try this one on."

"You mean breastplate, not corset. Umm, just try it on in the closet with the door pulled in a bit. There's a mirror on the inside."

Allison went to get changed behind the closet door.

"I don't know why you don't wanna at least try on the breastplate. You know what? I'm going to try it on to show to you what you're missing out on," said Stiles, taking off his shirt and fitting the breastplate on.

"You're crazy Stiles," Allison called out, from behind the closet door.

Stiles finished buckling the straps. The breastplate constricted his chest, but it did fit. "Crazy that I can fit into it, you mean? How's yours going?"

"It fits well, flexible not restrictive. Nice work, thanks."

"You're very welcome. My next project is weaponizing this baton," said Stiles. He brandished a black telescopic baton about, making lightsaber noises.

Mr Stilinski appeared in the doorway to Stiles' room. "What do you feel like for din- _What in God's name are you wearing?"_

 _"Oh god!_  I err..God!" spluttered Stiles, dropping his baton. ****  
  
Allison emerged from behind the closet door, all smiles and one of Stiles' plaid shirts pressed against her bare chest. "Oh hi there Mr Stilinski. That corset's mine, don't worry about it."

"It's not a corset!" cried out Stiles, trying to get the damned thing off.

"Oh." Mr Stilinski seemed even more shocked at Allison's sudden appearance. "Oh. Allison isn't it? Ah, I did not see you there. Not at all. Let's give her some privacy, _Stiles!_

Red faced, Stiles left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing with your best friend's girl? "Mr Stilinski asked in a hushed tone, cornering Stiles. "And why are you... _in a corset?!_ _ **  
**_ **  
**"I er, I just can't hear you. Nope, not at all. Nope, this is so not happening. I'm on the express train to Nopesville, and nope, I'm not disembarking anytime soon. Gotta go!" Stiles slipped away, locking himself in the bathroom. "And nope, it's not a _friggen corset!_ __ **"**

The next day, after lacrosse practice, Stiles' plan to avoid his father had two stages; find and join the pack, and not to venture home until late. Stiles knew the pack had resumed it's search of the area surrounding the community college, despite Derek's attempts to exclude him.

It was starting to get dark as Stiles scanned the park. He checked his phone again.

_People are already arriving for tonight's party. It's the right place, So where is he? How can I be a good Batman without the Batcomputer. I totally need to get one._

There was a soft thud from behind him, and Stiles found himself pressed into a tree trunk, Derek's handsome face mere inches from his, shadows etched across it.

"How did you find me?" said Derek, his brow already furrowed.

"With this awesome GPS app! Screw your wolf nose, I'm totally Batman tonight!" replied Stiles. He would have pulled out his phone to show Derek, but he had him firmly pinned against the tree. A familiar enough occurrence. Despite the pressure, Stiles rather liked the contact of Derek's hands gripping him through his thin shirt.

Derek snorted. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"Um, the same thing as you. Duuuh." Stiles' body coursed with adrenaline. It was as though his mouth was on autopilot, his mind and senses overwhelmed with Derek's close proximity.

Derek glared at Stiles. Derek's fine dark eyelashes seemed even longer close up. They framed eyes that were almost olive green flecked with a ring of yellow, or was it gold?

"Go home. Before you get your funny bone hurt," said Derek, as he cuffed the side of Stiles' head. Derek radiated body heat at the points where he came into contact with Stiles.

"Ow! Oh right. Like you could totally handle the ladies that took out a pack of alphas. How exactly do you plan to achieve that? The Glare-Bear Stare? Face it, this time, you're just as fragile as me."

Derek grabbed a fistful of Stiles' shirt, pulling him even closer. " _You_  are going  _home_.  _Now!_ "

Derek's mouth made shapes that Stiles found hypnotizing. He found himself leaning in to kiss that soft mouth. Derek's whole body froze, unmoving. Stiles' lips pursed around Derek's lower lip, gently sucking it. Derek sighed, his eyes closed. He started to respond to Stiles, lips brushing delicately. Stiles felt like he was melting, like the whole world was melting and the only thing that was real and concrete, was the delicious sensation of Derek's mouth pressed against his.

Derek abruptly pulled back, his face aghast. He quickly turned and sprinted away, disappearing into the bushes.

_What did I just do? I just kissed Derek Hale and I'm not dead! If I die now, I'll die happy. Wait, scrap that, I still need to do the deed. But I friggen kissed Derek! What was I thinking? I freakin kissed him, does it even matter?! Well, hardly the reaction you want from a kiss but you did get to kiss him for...let's say thirty seconds. A damn good thirty seconds, he even kissed you back! Pfft! Doesn't mean he won't crucify you the next time he sees you. It doesn't matter. Tonight, I am Batman and everything I do, rocks._

Stiles replayed the incident over and over in his mind, absentmindedly wandering on foot. He found himself in front of a large house, student housing by the look of it. Despite being only early in the evening, a party had already spilled out in front of the house. Someone was smoking pot nearby and he could hear music playing but didn't recognise the song.

 _Maybe this is the same group of party shits that got my Dad called out a few nights ago. Maybe those Council jerkwads are hiding out here and having a good time! That's stupid, why would they be hiding? Does it matter, tonight you are Batman and you will solve this with your pure awesomeness!_ _ **  
**_ __  
He walked up to the gate, pushing it open and walked up the path.

A young man broke off from a cluster of people, and blocked Stiles' path. "I wouldn't go in there, if I were you." He was tall and lean, jeans slung low, and his unbuttoned maroon shirt revealed an expanse of caramel coloured skin. The young man had a striking, angular face; his pale blue eyes in contrast with an unruly mop of auburn coloured hair.

"Why is that?" Stiles asked, his heart thudding in his chest. He was unsure why this stranger unsettled him, he had a fine physique but it was no comparison to Derek's.

The stranger stretched lazily, displaying even more skin and taunt muscles. "You're a little young for this kind of party. Come back in a few years, babyface."

"What if I wanna score some weed?" Stiles stalled, not wanting to leave.

"If you want drugs, go to a few houses down to the house with the green door." The stranger grinned broadly, full lips framing a dazzling, knowing smile. A smile that would make dentists weep and quit their jobs in despair. Stiles idly wondered if Derek would ever use his best smile on him.

"Um..um, right. I'd thank you, but I don't know your name," said Stiles, feeling awkward and out of place.

The young man slowly ran a hand back through his wavy hair, his cheekbones catching angles like a model. "You can call me Lesley."

"I'm Stiles." He was unsure if college students shook hands or not, and jerked his hand about clumsily.

Lesley studied Stiles, his pale blue eyes piercing into him. "I've never met a Stiles before." He slowly circled around Stiles, appraising him with those glittering blue eyes. But they weren't complex and deep like Derek's. Hopefully Derek wasn't freaking out about their kiss. Maybe he should text him.

Lesley stopped pacing. "Aren't you just all kinds of unusual."he said softly, tilting his head. Lesley leaned in to gently touch Stiles' arm, his touch burned "What you want isn't here. Go home."

Stiles decided to head home, he really needed to have a chat with his dad.


	7. Chapter Seven

Stiles was pinned down by a certain sexy werewolf, unable to move. He felt Derek's tongue searching along his body. Stiles forgot about everything else.

"Mmm," he said, ignoring the questions being asked.

There was a jar of bees off to the side. Derek started using them to sting Stiles' arm, firing accusations at him.

"Ow! Hey-" Stiles cried out, opening his eyes. He was in bed, with Erica's heavy breasts thrust up in his face, her long blonde hair falling down like a curtain between them. "Erica?! What the hell?"

"Enjoying that dream a little _too_ much, Stiles? You could still get your happy ending," she cooed, fingers trailing his chest suggestively.

"Get off me!" Stiles said, pushing her off. He hoped she hadn't noticed his erection, luckily it was already running out of steam due to his bad mood.

Erica laughed. "The usual methods didn't wake you. I had to get creative." She made a pinching gesture. "Who were you dreaming about?"

"Ugh." Stiles cradled his head and swung his feet out of bed. "What do you want?"

"Is this how you welcome your good friend?" Erica gave him her widest smile, posing in her tight black outfit.

"You're about as welcome as a case of herpes."

Erica scowled. "Don't start with me or I won't play nice."

"Fine. Why don't you come in and make yourself at home - oh wait you already have. You're so special," he said.

Erica shot back a sarcastic smile.

"Imagine if Scott found out that Allison has been in your room." Her eyes darted towards the closet. "I can smell that the bitch was here."

"Always looking to start drama. Besides that's bullshit, you're not allowed near Scott in his state. Boyd told me. What did you do, have an insecure moment and try to rape him?"

"Oh har har, he punched me!"

"It's a gift, you just have that effect on people."

Erica glared at Stiles, her eyes shooting daggers despite her smile.

_Don't push her too hard. She bites! Distract her._

"Speaking of your effect on people, I know what you're doing to Allison."

Erica smirked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, feigning innocence.

"Oh come on," scoffed Stiles.

"Well," Erica began, her voice sickly sweet. "I can't imagine someone wanting to hurt our _dear, angelic_ Allison. You know... a little birdy may have told me about how her laptop flew out the window, and how her clothes somehow ended up at Goodwill. Must be all that bad karma she has."

"All of this crap needs to stop. No more freaky Katniss dolls, no more shitty pranks."

Erica's eyes flashed gold. "No! We're _not_ done! _Allison_ nearly killed us! It's her fault that we were captured and tortured! Does that mean nothing to you?"

"I know you're pushing Boyd to help you with this crap. You've made your point. She's absolutely defeated, not fighting back. You are done."

"But-"

"You. Are. Done. Or so help me, I will have a nice little chat with Derek and he will end your perky ass. Allison is still grieving and that is worse than anything you can do to her. Lay off her, it's bullying. Don't you remember what that's like?"

Erica stared at Stiles, her hands fisted. Perhaps his words had managed to affect her.

She sighed. "Fine, whatever. I didn't come here to talk about this crap anyway. I'm here to take you to the warehouse for the meeting this morning.

Stiles stared at Erica, his sleepy brain struggling to get into gear. "What? Why wouldn't Derek just text me? That doesn't make any sense."

"I know, right?" Erica turned and rummaged through his closet, sniffing clothes and making a mess.

"Hey, stop that!"

Erica grinned mischievously. "What? It's already a mess, I'm improving it." She threw some clothes at Stiles. "Here, put these on."

"But-"

"They are the most clean, _trust me,"_ Erica spat out, her voice laced with warning

"Fine, but give a guy some privacy, sheesh!"

"Ugh! Whatever." Erica rolled her eyes, but she did turn around. Stiles heard her fiddling with stuff on his desk. Stiles quickly started getting dressed.

"I didn't know you liked True Blood," she said.

_She must have found the dvds! Oh god, if she finds the porn drive!_

"Duh, of course I like it! It has gore, werewolves, nakedness and witty one liners. The core ingredients of a great show."

"Right, and I suppose you love that doe eyed vampire, Jessica, because she reminds you of a certain annoying redhead."

Stiles tugged on his jeans. "That's right, you've got me."

"I think it's really weird that her virginity constantly heals over." She paused. "Do you think it's the same for werewolves?"

Stiles was stunned, his shirt half on.

"Wait, does this mean you're still a virgin? This is like some fantastic cosmic joke! Your slutty powers are all bark and no bite?" Stiles burst out laughing.

Erica whirled around, flinging a shoe at Stiles. " _Shutup!_ I'm only sexy on _my_ terms."

"Oh, I know! Just use a wolfsbane condom!" Stiles fell to the bed, shaking with laughter.

Erica jumped on top of him, striking at his soft places with his own shoe. " _Shutup! Shutup! Shutup!"_ She froze, mid strike. "Your dad is awake. We need to go." she whispered.

Erica was a blur of blonde hair, moving to grab his keys and other shoe, and then moving push Stiles out the window. "Hurry up. Don't be such a wuss. I'll carry you on my back." Erica quickly followed Stiles out on the roof, throwing his shoes down.

"Here, just grip me here, like that." she said.

Stiles awkwardly clung to Erica's back, flailing about, trying avoid her boobs.

She nimbly jumped down to the ground despite the added weight, but lost her balance on the landing. They fell over. Erica landed face first into the grass, with Stiles piled on top of her.

Stiles smothered a laugh. "Karma!"

Erica spat out bits of grass. "Ugh. Don't start Stilinski. Get off me and start your jeep already."

They bolted for his jeep, losing no time in clambering in and starting it up. Erica started cleaning herself up, and Stiles drove in the direction of the warehouse.

Erica began to pick out bits of grass from her hair. "All this trouble, just because Derek couldn't text you. What did you do?"

"You know maybe Derek ran out of credit, or maybe sending you over is cheaper than a text message."

Erica whipped her head around to face Stiles, her eyes flashing gold. "You know, one day you're going to annoy the wrong person into murdering you. You make me feel so... _homicidal."_

Stiles shot her a gleeful grin "Yes, but you'll have Derek to contend with."

"Oh yes, _Derek. Derek_ always has your back. And what's the deal with _Derek_? This week _,_ his moods have been all over the place. First he was in an angry rage, then he was sad and then he seemed kinda happy, well Derek's version of happy. And surprise, surprise, you're at the centre of it."

"Is he even capable of being happy? What if we drugged him with something like prozac, he'd-"

"Oh nice try changing the subject, Stiles. I _know_ you're in middle of this. He was back to a shitty mood when he gave us the 'No Stiles on Search Parties Mandate'."

"Erica, I don't know what to tell you. I really don't know what you're talking about."

_She doesn't know you're referring to the No Stiles Mandate. Technically not a lie, right? Fuck! Old people sex, dead kittens, roadkill...Yes! Eating roadkill!_

"You want to know what I think?" Erica asked.

"Nope, not really. I am just peachy without your input," Stiles said, focusing on the road.

"I think you were being annoying - which isn't hard to picture, _at all_ \- and then Derek shut you down." Her voice lowered to a soft, slow hush. "Later, he stared deep into your honey colored eyes, all tense and flustered... but then you spoiled the moment by revealing how badly you're crushing on him." Erica burst out laughing, amused by her cleverness.

"I am _not_ crushing on him! I am all about Lydia, always have been, always will be. Lydia-centric, one hundred percent, all the way. Sorry, but you just don't have a chance to get all aboard the Stiles."

"Whatever you say," Erica purred, leaning in close. She ran a finger down his neck. "You still have it _bad."_

Stiles flicked the radio on. "Do you hear that? That's the sound of you being ignored."

"Ah, no. That's sound of a Justin Bieber song," said Erica, giving him the stink eye.

"Argh! Satan's Spawn!" cried Stiles, whacking the radio off. He turned to Erica. "Look, you drop this...this crapola nonsense you have in your pretty blonde head about Derek, and I will forget your embarrassing True Blood problem."

Erica rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever." She began to reapply her makeup in the mirror. They both were silent the rest of the way to the warehouse.

When they finally made their way into the warehouse, they found everyone already there waiting. The morning sun filtered through boarded up panes, casting their regular meeting spot in a new light. Stiles didn't remember ever being here this early.

Erica stiffened slightly at the sight of Allison perched on an old crate. Derek, Isaac and Peter were gathered around a rickety table, a large map strewn across it.

Isaac gave Stiles a quick grin. "Hey Stiles!"

Allison gave Stiles a relieved smile, waving him over, and Peter nodded in greeting. Derek didn't even acknowledge him. Erica went over to stand next to Isaac, and Stiles joined Allison on her crate.

"I don't understand why I couldn't have my breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day." said Stiles, rubbing his belly.

"Now that we are all here-" Derek began, ignoring Stiles.

"What about Scott and Boyd?" Stiles interrupted.

"We have them on speakerphone," said Allison, pointing at a phone on the table.

"Hey hey Scott and Boyd!" Stiles called out.

"Stiles! I've missed you so much! Hey! Gimme back the phone! I hate you Boyd!" came Scott's voice through the phone. It sounded like there was a scuffle on the other end.

"Now that we are all _finally_ here," repeated Derek, glowering at Stiles.

_Heh, at least he is looking at me now!_

"We need an update on the council research. It is important for all of us to try to figure out where they are hiding, and how to handle them once we find them," Derek continued.

"Dad's asked around," Allison said softly. "The hunters have never heard of the Council. But there was mention of a number of sasquatch found dead, in the north of the state. They thought the deaths suspicious."

Stiles tugged at his ear. "Yeah, Deaton's contacts don't know anything about the Council either. He's gone on this whole fasting cleanse thing and headed off to some special burial site, he thought it was worth a try asking the spirits. I did some digging online - God how I love Google Books. The Council were part of a religion in the Mesopotamian region, that spread to other parts until the roman empire took over, then they became some underground cult." Stiles paused, as he noticed the glazed over expressions appear on everyone's faces.

"Come on guys, wake up! At least you got your breakfast." Stiles started to pace the floor. "So basically, the Council always had three members who were like judges for the supernatural, acting on behalf on their Moon Goddess, who has tons of names you really don't want to know. And then I couldn't find any other mention of them up until the Georgian times. I found mention of this Count dude on his 'Grand Tour' - you know, the aristocrat version of our vacations- anyway, he apparently found them in India, and contacted the Council to deal with a problematic banshee back in Wales. There wasn't much info though, his journal was full of his obsession with a 'most luscious red-headed vixen' and he went kinda out of his mind on opium, but its still better than nothing, right? We know they got rid of the banshee, and that was the first and only mention of a red headed woman. I don't know if they are the same group as the ones that killed the alphas, or if they are possessing humans or some sort of spell or artifact. It could be just about anything!"

Everyone stared at him blankly, except Peter who looked thoughtful.

Derek stared at the map, as he slowly walked around the table. Stiles couldn't help but notice how well Derek filled out his tight denim jeans.

_Why does he wear such tight pants anyway? To torture me or maybe he grew too many muscles and that made all his clothes tight? I need to get some muscles of my own._

"We have searched and cleared these areas," Derek said, pointing at marked sections of the map. "They could still be anywhere, from the woods to the community college." Derek let his gaze flick over group, stopping at Stiles for a moment. He quickly looked away.

Stiles got up to look at the map. "Yeah, lately there's been some crazyass parties at that park down by the college. My Dad got called out a few times. Apparently they burnt down the freaking gazebo! But, I suppose it could just be college kids being stupid..."

"Where, isn't the question we should be asking," said Peter, gazing pointedly at Derek. "The question should be why. Once we know what motivates them, we can find out what they want and then we have something to work with."

Erica snorted. "Yeah, well you didn't see them take a part the alpha pack like it was nothing. They don't wait around to talk."

Peter smirked at that. "Yes, but the delicious sounding 'luscious red-headed vixen' wasn't there fighting, and she was only an observer when Scott and Isaac met them. Perhaps she is the key in all of this. Find her and she's our 'in'." He turned to Stiles. "It's possible our redheaded woman has more in common with the Count's vixen than just hair colour. Might even be the same person somehow. Did the Count mention anything about where he met her, where she liked to go?"

"Ahh, umm..." Stiles pressed his hands to his head, trying to jumpstart his brain. "He first met them at the theatre, she sang and he said the red headed woman had 'a most enchanting voice'. Um and afterwards he would seek her out in private salons, like their version of bars. Ahh, he said, "Men flocked to her there, like bees to a flower." That's about it."

"The woman Scott and I met did smell really amazing. Kinda like sex," added Isaac, blushing furiously.

"Fine, we will stake out all the local bars then, search for her scent," said Derek. He dipped his head in Stiles and Allison's direction "You two will leave this to us."

"But-" started Stiles.

"This is not a discussion," Derek stated curtly, avoiding eye contact again. Derek bent over, delving into a nearby box.

"Your fault," Erica mouthed, her eyes flicking at Derek and then back at Stiles.

_Stupid Erica. Stupid, grumpy Derek. I thought it was a good kiss. But no, he obviously wants to forget it and me. Argh, I want this to be over and I want to die!_

Derek pulled out some large jars from the box and placed them on the table. "Deaton has given us some more mountain ash. We don't even know if it works on the Council or just makes us sitting ducks, but it's something. Erica and Isaac, you can stay with Boyd and Scott if you like. Ms McCall already maintains an ash circle to keep Scott in." He motioned to Isaac to pass some jars to Allison and Stiles.

"That's it. We'll run some drills. Allison, you're welcome to join us."

Allison's hand crept up around her neck, as she shot a look at Erica. "Er, okay. Sure, I'll go get my gear."

"Hold up a sec!" Stiles said, waving his hands about. " I need to go into town to buy some extra supplies of the alchemical variety, with money that I really don't have, and - _and most importantly -_ I still haven't had my breakfast!"

Derek turned away and started a muted conversation with Isaac and Erica. Allison collected her phone and walked out to her car.

"Hello? Starvation imminent! You guys are supposed to be my friends!" said Stiles.

Peter winked at him. "Guess it's just you and me then," he said, fingers slowly trailing along the table as he moved towards Stiles. "There's a few things I need to do in town as well. If you drove me there, I'd more than happy to pay for your package." Peter grinned wickedly. He lowered his voice to a soft murmur. "Perhaps I'd be in a generous mood and get you something more than... _a hot pocket_. "

Derek stopped what he was doing and looked up with a scowl.

"Great! I can take you to town, no problemo," Stiles said. If it was bothering Derek, then he was pleased.

It was only later, when he was alone in the car with Peter, that Stiles started to regret his decision.

Peter sat in the passenger seat, with his annoying smirk in place. "Got you all to myself on this little road trip. Just think of all the fun we can have."

"Yeah, spending time with 'Peter the Perverse' is top of my bucket list. Not." Stiles said, as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Well now, that's almost a compliment, coming from you. I am glad my efforts are starting to pay off."

"Ugh. I'm driving you to town. I'm focusing on driving and _ignoring_ you, which diverting my attention from actually driving. Not good! If you quit being a such a creep, and let me drive, it would be over sooner and I could get to important things. Things like breakfast."

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Someone didn't wake up on the right side of the bed today. Didn't you find Erica a pleasant sight to wake up to? I thought she was very willing."

"Still driving. Ignoring annoying background noise."

"No? Blondes not to your liking? I do recall you pining for that girl, Lydia. But, she is already spoken for, and disappeared with her lover, out into the horizon, like a tragic Adele song."

"Nope, nice try but I'm not biting that one."

"No? Not redheads either?" Peter paused for the dramatic effect that he liked so much. "Well what about brunettes? I hear they can be feisty, especially recently" he said with a devilish grin.

"God! Do you ever stop? We are spending the rest of the way in silence or you're going to get a face full of wolfsbane mace!"

Not that Stiles had bought it with him, but Peter didn't know that. Peter chuckled but at least he remained silent the rest of the trip.

Stiles headed for the industrial district. He really wanted breakfast, he felt like his stomach was devouring itself, but he wanted to pick up his specially ordered supplies first before heading into town. He pulled up to a nondescript warehouse, that had a gaudy pink sign plastered out front. The warehouse was home to a women's fashion wholesaler.

"I did not expect to be treated to ladies fashion. I'm excited. Is there something you want to tell me?" Peter asked, his annoying smirk back in place.

Stiles ignored him, double checking the address Deaton had given him. Yes, he was at the right address. "Yup, we are at the right place. Try to behave."

Peter looked at him with wide innocent eyes.

"Who am I kidding? Just pretend like you're a normal person and not Peter the Perverse," Stiles said, as they exited the car.

"Why would you come here?" mused Peter as they went inside the open door. They were in a big showroom with lots of gowns on display. There was big showy gowns, delicate lacy gowns, frothy frilly gowns, gowns of every colour and shape.

" _So_ many gowns," said Stiles looking around. "but no people."

"Ohh, I see!" exclaimed Peter. "You need supplies for your debutante ball! What name would you use for you big debut? Stacie? Stella? Ohh! You're definitely an Estelle!"

A pretty asian girl emerged from somewhere in the forest of gowns, saving Stiles from further embarrassment.

She smiled shyly. "Oh hi there! I'm sorry I didn't see you guys! How can I help you?"

Stiles stared at her, distracted by the large bag of twizzlers she held. She stared back at him, her hand slowly moving to hide the bag behind her back.

Peter watched the exchange with an unsettled expression. "Hello, nice to meet you. We are here to pick up a special order." Peter tried for his warmest smile but still seemed creepy.

Stiles snapped to, suddenly remembering why he was here. "Err, yeah. A package for Deaton. I was told to ask for Zhou Wu."

"Of course, one moment," she said. She turned and disappeared into the gowns, leaving them alone in the room.

"Are you really that hungry?" asked Peter.

"Shut up," said Stiles, sitting awkwardly on the edge of one of the gown podiums.

"Want a mint?"

Stiles snorted. "I am not like some desperate child!" But he took the offered mint anyway.

A greying elderly asian man shuffled out with a broad smile. "I am Zhou Wu. Any friend of Deaton's, is wel-" He abruptly stopped when he noticed Peter. The old man's face closed off. "First payment, then package."

Stiles shot Peter a questioning look. He seemed just as confused.

"Do you take credit card?" asked Peter, pulling out his wallet.

"Here." Zhou Wu motioned for them to follow, leading them to a desk hidden away in a corner. Peter handed his card over and Zhou Wu wordlessly processed the transaction. "Wanda will bring your package out front. Good bye."

Realizing they were dismissed, Peter and Stiles quickly exited the building. They both waited in front of the car, Stiles looked down at his shoes feeling awkward.

Off to the side, a roller door pushed up. The twizzler girl from before, Wanda, was standing next to a trolley laden with an assortment of boxes.

"Oh hey! Wanda wasn't it?" asked Stiles brightly.

Wanda didn't respond, just stared at them.

"Okay...Well then, let's get the jeep loaded up," Peter said to Stiles. They moved quickly to load the boxes into the back of the jeep, Stiles left the heavier ones for Peter.

He turned back to Wanda, who had been silently observing the little operation. "This is great. Can you thank Zhou Wu for us?"

Wanda wordlessly delved a hand into a pocket, revealing a twizzler. She bit into it hard, ripping a bite off. Wanda stepped further back inside, the roller door slowly came down.

"Wow! They really didn't like us," said Stiles, stunned.

"Come on, get in and we'll get something to eat. I know a good place in town."

_Was Peter being nice to me? What's his angle? Fourth sign of the coming apocalypse, Peter Hale being nice! We are doomed!_

They got into Stiles' jeep, and after a brief discussion, headed off to the main strip in town, to a cafe that Peter recommended. When they arrived, they found a free table out front, a nice spot with leafy green potted plants.

"This is surprisingly nice," said Stiles, taking a seat. "Do you take all your dates here?

Peter took the other seat and grinned. "Only afterwards...see I don't make breakfast, I _buy_ it. They do an all day breakfast here."

"All day breakfast?! It's love at first sight." Stiles snatched at the menu, scanning through the options.

A young waitress came over. "Hello, are you boys ready to order?"

Stiles chewed his lip. "Ah hey, can I get the apple & mint frappe and... um, I'm trying to decide between the big breakfast, which i really really need - but the lime coconut pancakes sound beyond amazing."

The waitress stopped writing, waiting for Stiles to decide what to order.

"We'll get both of those. For myself, the steak, done rare, but with your tomato chilli jam instead of mushroom sauce. And a black coffee. Thanks," said Peter, not needing to read the menu. The waitress collected the menus, and went off to place their order.

Peter pulled out his pocket organizer, quietly immersed in its contents. Stiles decided to check his phone as well.

_Nope, no new messages. Maybe I should message Derek. And say what? Oh Hi, I'm totally sorry for mouthraping you? Please stop being such a grumpybum, my poor teenage heart can't handle the rejection. Yeah, coz that's totally not pathetic. Argh! What to say?_

Finally he reached a decision, he typed out: "Hey we need to talk about what happened. I don't want you to be hating me." and hit send.

He got a reply a minute later from Derek: "Nothing happened. Don't hate you."

_He's denying it ever even happened! First kiss FAIL! He is never gonna be normal around me again! I suck! Put the phone away before you do more damage! Gah!_

He tucked the phone away and the waitress came round with their drinks. Stiles fiddled with the table condiments, arranging them in patterns. "So.. are you going to tell me what you did to Zhou Wu? He did a complete 180 when he saw you."

"Honestly it was the first time I've met the guy. Deaton's...sort of people, tend to react that way when they met me." Peter shrugged. "Maybe my bad aura gives them tingles, who knows?"

"That, I could totally buy. You lead the market on creepy." Stiles paused whilst the waitress brought out the food. "What do you need to do in town anyway? More mischief, murder and mayhem?"

"It's funny you should say that," Peter said, reaching to steal some of Stiles' bacon. "because that's exactly why I'm here."

Stiles stared at Peter in shock, his fork frozen midair.

"Don't look so disturbed. It's only two of those now. I need to get money somehow and a dead man can't get a job. Money can be useful, like today for example."

"Oh right, and what do you spend your ill gotten gains on? Saving up for an evil lair?" Stiles asked through a mouthful.

"Funny but no, however my current agenda does involve building. In those files you recovered on that laptop, were some blueprints to rebuild the Hale house. Seems like it was Laura's side project." Peter paused, growing distant. "So, I'm going to get it built, my little attempt to mend things with Derek. But even so, it's a drop in the bucket." He sighed. "And there's so much bureaucratic red tape involved, approvals and surveys, quotes and samples. It's going to take years, even with a touch of bribery and blackmail."

"Hey! hey! I don't wanna know the details. I do not want to be charged with aiding and abetting. Nope, no thank you." Stiles took a bite of pancakes.

"Oh sweet jesus, these are amazing! Anyways, I think that's really cool of you to do that, I'm sure Derek would appreciate it.

Peter gave a wry smile over his coffee. "I wouldn't know, he's understandably very guarded about it all."

"Well, you're trying, that has to count for something. Keep at it."

Peter looked downcast "His birthday is coming up. I bet you didn't know that?" Stiles shook his head. "It would be nice to do something for him."

Stiles snorted. "Oh yeah, your version of a present would be what? Argent's head on a platter? A knife in the front, instead of the back?"

"Ouch, Stiles. If I had feelings, I'd almost be hurt," said Peter, his eyes gleaming.

Stiles almost felt sorry for him, _almost._ "I wouldn't know what to get him either. He likes art...the way his face lit up when he talked about his artwork. Did you see the amazing portrait he did of Laura?"

"I did. It really captured her. It's a pity he doesn't paint anymore. Did he mention what happened to the painting?"

"Ah, I think he sold it. Maybe that should be your next machiavellian scheme, recover Derek's art!"

Peter smiled. "Maybe I will. A few weeks to recover Laura's picture? I like a challenge." He pulled out his organizer to add some notes. He finished and looked over at Stiles. "You know I haven't properly thanked you for what you did recovering those files. I was touched seeing that video again, after all these years. In fact, I'm going to throw you a little bone in regards to Derek."

"What?! You don't need to, I mean, I don't-" spluttered Stiles, jolting in his chair.

Peter chuckled. "Let me let you in on a little secret. From the werewolf point of view, the sense of smell is like...like a radar if you will. Emotions that cause a physical reactions like fear or _lust,_ broadcast on that radar. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the signal. If you want a certain werewolf's attention, simply focus on what you want to broadcast. Do you follow?"

"Mmm! Those pancakes were awesome!" said Stiles, stretching out, both plates cleared. He was determined not to have this conversation with Peter. "You totally missed out by ordering that steak. I'm so full now; a bellyful of drool-worthy deliciousness."

"Okay, be like that." said Peter, a smirk beginning to appear on his face. "I'll go sort the bill out. I think you might be getting a call pretty soon."

"What the hell? How do you know? Has the dark side granted you that power as well?"

Peter just grinned as he walked inside to pay.

Right on cue, Stiles' phone rang. It was his Dad. This can't be good.

"Good morning Dad!" Stiles said, aiming for bright and cheery.

"Stiles, Officer Parker has eyes on you." Stiles looked around, spotting a squad car across the street. "He tells me you're out with some skeevy looking older man, who is buying you brunch? What is going on?" demanded his father.

"Geez, Dad! Nothing is going on. Why the hell have you got guys out spying on me?"

"You never miss breakfast, and you didn't sleep in on a Saturday. What am I supposed to think? Of course I put an APB out. One of the perks of the job. Who is this guy? Is he your drug dealer? He is connec-"

"DAD! You put an APB out on me?! You're unbelievable!" Stiles felt himself getting heated. "No, I am not buying drugs at 11:30 in the morning! Look, there's a house with a green door, halfway down Colin street. Why don't you go there and arrest some _real_ drug dealers."

"Calm down, of course the APB is cancelled now, I've just been worried about you. You've been acting so strange lately, the other day with-"

_Oh god no! Too embarrassing! Go for the jugular._

"Dad, I think they are the ones supplying the parties around the college."

His dad sighed. "Fine, but you can tell me how you know their address when we talk later tonight."

After the call ended, he stared down at his phone, feeling guilty. He now needed an excuse to escape tonight. An appointment, an obligation, a hobby or _something._ Recalling his earlier conversation gave him an idea.

He gave Erica a call. "Heya listen, I'm gonna need your help with something, and your answer will be yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Made it extra long to make up for the wait. Thanks for being patient


End file.
